


Counting Misdemeanours

by SuperFerret



Series: Avoidance [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperFerret/pseuds/SuperFerret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to 'Strawberries'. </p><p>Bond goes AWOL after a mission and M deals with trying to keep an errant agent on the line. When he eventually does return she already has a plan up her sleeve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Bond. Come in, Bond.”

M paced her office, pushing her ear piece in harder in order to hear better. Not that it would make a difference; the technology was far advanced for that. She watched as several members of her surveillance team clicked and typed as quickly as they could as they tried to regain contact with James Bond. Tanner frowned with concern as he dished out orders to the pair nearest him.

“Forget comms. Go for satellite.” He moved himself to stand behind M who was staring at a large screen on the wall which showed all the information they had available to them. “If he’s hurt, Ma’am, we’ll find him.”

As the infrared satellite picture came into view, M quickly scanned the area for signs of heat which might show something was still alive down there. There had been a large explosion at the Iranian embassy in Paris and she still wasn't sure who was responsible for it. The French had been in talks with Iran for weeks now but she had heard nothing that might suggest they would escalate matters so quickly like this. It was very possible that Iran was attempting to sabotage themselves to frame their enemies after the previous acts of war over the last year but the embassy held some of their best men. There was no logic to that argument either.

There was another answer, of course. A much more likely answer, even if it was one she hoped not to have to admit. Bond.

“007, are you there? If you can hear us then I order you to respond. What is your location?”

“There, Ma’am,” said Tanner pointing at the screen. “There’s a man there hidden inside a container.”

The figure on the screen looked to be lying down and wasn't moving. Morbid thoughts brushed across the forefront of M’s mind but in the heat of battle she forced any emotional entanglement to the bottom of her psyche. For a fleeting second she was reminded of their final conversation before he left for this mission, “if you don’t come back alive, I will kill you.” He had to be brought home no matter what so it was important to send someone to the body. No, she told herself, to James. He wasn't a body yet.

“Tanner, where’s Eve?”

“On her way to location now.”

“Good,” her voice giving away none of the anxiety she felt. She looked to be made of steel and she wished her colleagues to continue to view her as such. Her mind was always focused on the job at hand and today would be no different. “Eve, do you still have the prime minister?”

“Yes, Ma’am. We’re almost at the safe house. After that explosion there was no problem getting her out undercover.”

The mission would be a success then, regardless of what state they found Bond in. That white dot that they suspected to be him still hadn't moved and was doing nothing to make M feel better. He had been in worse situations and now that the prime minister was safely away she supposed there was no longer much risk for him, but more than ever she felt her conscience beat inside her. She was responsible for sending him out there to a possible death and any chance of a life with him would end as quickly as his. She was also responsible for Eve and all those other agents she manipulated like a puppet on a string but somehow Bond had always been different. Despite his misdemeanours she wanted him around; sometimes she wanted him around because of his misdemeanours but those were private thoughts just for the two of them to enjoy.

“Send in medical evac to see to 007. They won’t be seen if they come from the north east. We need him back.” She had effortlessly said ‘we’ rather than ‘I need him back’ but she thought it all the same.

The white spot of heat on the screen had suddenly started moving. It had climbed out of whatever container it was in and was attempting to run in the precise direction she had told the medical team to arrive from. That was all the proof she needed.

“Ah, how nice to see you, Mr Bond. Care to enlighten us on your little distraction back there?” The man began to run faster before disappearing into an unnamed building. “I know you can hear me, 007. Report.”

There was a crackle over the intercom which was soon joined by the sound of heavy breathing.

“Just doing my duty, Ma’am,” he spat with disdain. They heard muffled movements, and then there was a loud crunch before the line went silent again. Q branch would not be happy.

“Satellite, CCTV, anything. Get him back,” Tanner ordered.

“No. Look who we’re talking about. He’s gone,” M said sternly. This had all the quirks of a James Bond holiday and she would be surprised to see him back for at least a month at which point he would stroll in looking suave and fully rested, waiting to be sent outside to play again. His little holiday would all be charged to his government and they wouldn't be able to trace a thing. She reasoned things were running just like clockwork then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend to make this multi-chapter but it was too much fun! Next stop, M reminisces about the past few months and James inevitably returns.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James interrupts M during some "private reflection".

She sat on her sofa with a half empty bottle of single malt on the table with her eyes closed in an attempt to relax. It would be futile to spend any time searching for him. She had tried that before and only ended up wasting man power, not to mention lots of money, on a wild goose chase. He would come back. Possibly because of his duty to his country but mostly, she secretly hoped, because of her. She had given him a reason to live and a warm body to come home to but he was never the domestic type. She didn't think he was capable of a stable, loving relationship because he thrived on instability and spontaneous thrill-seeking trips that he always undertook alone.

That was why she was so enamoured by him. His unhealthy approach to relationships was exactly what she craved now she was a widow. It was as if her husband’s death had freed her from her own domesticity and she could fling herself into life with reckless abandon, which is how James happened. But she was still the head of MI6 and until times changed it was only her private life that would be so free.

Her husband had always voted Labour. He liked to spend his Sunday mornings reading a broadsheet but mostly so he could scribble on the puzzle pages. He had made love to her tenderly and told her he loved her as often as he could. Stable. But James on the other hand was volatile. One night they would drink a whole bottle of whisky together and she would end up being fucked over the kitchen counter with all the grace of a shit faced student. Another time she came home to find him curled up on her sofa crying but she had never mentioned this to him again. Instead she was fucked raw by his alpha male tendencies kicking in when he felt the embarrassment of what she’d seen. Another time he turned up at her house and, without saying a word, hungrily kissed her, removed her clothes and fucked her roughly as if he’d had a bad day and needed to take it out on someone. It almost always involved sex.

He never scared her and he always gave her what she wanted. It was often rough but she told him time and again she liked it that way. She’d never had it like that before. Every brutal thrust had her begging for more but when they were finished he always stayed, sometimes for a few days but never more than a week. He always made sure she was comfortable at the end of everything they did and he never began without permission. Even when he was clouded by anger he would wait for her permission to reveal himself, which she imagined was probably due to the years they had spent together where he had to obey her every order or fear termination. When it came to sex she always held the leash but she gave him free reign to get what he needed out of his system.

The memories stirred a familiar heat inside her and curled her toes. Maybe it was the whisky. Maybe it was being reminded of being taken from behind in the kitchen. She felt a twinge. Yes, that was it. The whisky made her sleepily relax deeper into the sofa and was probably responsible for her moving her right hand to touch herself. Just gently rubbing, up and down, remembering how it had happened.

She had been in a bad mood that day, bloody bureaucrats. James had settled her at one end of the breakfast bar with himself at the other end and poured them each a large tumbler of Auchentoshan. Not the finest whisky she had but drinkable. When she gulped down her first glass, he poured her another and another until they were merrily giggling away at whatever it was she was angry about in the first place. Then at the heart of laughter he had raised his hand to stroke her face and as his fingers passed her lips she kissed them. The laughter stopped to pause time and give them a moment of clarity. She felt whole again. He kept his fingers there as she took them into her mouth and sucked on them until he had gotten up from his seat and held himself against her. His hand slid down her frame to rub against her crotch, just as she was doing now. It wasn’t the same when it was her own hand. 

The sex had been hurried but loving. There was no time for foreplay, only enough to prepare her for him. They had to feel each other like a pair of randy teenagers and feel that closeness that came from James being inside her. He had gotten down on his knees to remove her underwear and kiss her folds until she was open enough for him to lick and tease whatever he wanted; then she was ready to take him. His mouth had so often caused her to moan and whimper but she was so frustrated. James had used a finger to tease her entrance but he never gave in to her, he just stroked the outside and occasionally dared to place a fingertip where she wanted it most. 

On one particularly illicit moan, he had stood up, flipped her round with her back to him and bent her over the table. He undid his trousers with one hand, his other hand firmly on her ass, and pushed his boxer shorts down just enough to release his erection, no more. He placed the tip at her entrance ready to pounce.

“Oh, James.” 

She hadn't realised how much noise she had been making with these memories.

“Missed me?”

She started. Her eyes were wide open looking for the source even though she knew who she’d find.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” She stood up to face him, anger quickly replacing her arousal.

“Just a short vacation. It sounds like you've missed me as much as I missed you.” He leaned against the door frame with an arrogant grin on his face. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been there or even how long she’d been fantasising but she wasn't about to give in to him.

“Missed you? Pah! Two bloody months you've been gone without so much as a postcard.” He had the gall to smile at this as he no doubt remembered a previous conversation of theirs. “Anyone else and you’d have been shipped off to the job centre years ago. Yet here I am with nothing left to do but wait for you like some sort of lap dog.”

“Clearly, you did more whilst I was away than wait for me. What were you thinking about just then, eh?” He took a few steps closer to her with his devilish grin still plastered across his face. If she could send an army of agents to their deaths she could tell James Bond to piss off. He tried to put an arm around her. “I know you were thinking of my cock and, believe me, every girl I've fucked these last few weeks have always had your face on them.”

“But perkier breasts, I presume?” Her eyes shot daggers at him as she pushed his arms away. She walked to the front door and held it open for him. “Get out. And inform Tanner of your return by morning or I’ll personally find a way to castrate you.”

James’ shoulders drooped. He had been expecting a warmer welcome although she wasn't sure why. She hadn't realised how angry she was at being left in the dark, unsure of his welfare but it was all coming out now and she couldn't stand the sight of him.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He strode out of the door without a backwards glance and wandered into the night. She closed the door behind him and returned to her scotch.

He just needed to learn his lesson was all, and she had a shrewd idea what that might entail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James isn't going to be happy... or maybe he will. Teehee, cheeky boy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M unfurls her plan of mischief.

James opened his eyes wide as years of sensing danger alerted him to a presence in his apartment. He looked at the clock. 02:30. Clearly this was not a social visit. 

He silently slid out of bed wearing only his pyjama trousers and stealthily stood next to the door. He could see a light on in the kitchen so, keeping close to the wall, he prowled down the corridor towards the intruder. He considered every possible way of neutralising an enemy with his hands but before he could decide what was best he heard a familiar popping sound: the top had been pulled out of the decanter. Maybe this was a social visit after all.

His sense of danger abated and he turned round the corner to see M pouring herself a drink.

“Don’t you drink anything else? It’s bad for you, you know.” M turned her eyes to look at the half naked man whose house she had illegally entered. If she was pleased to see his muscular torso she didn’t show it. She was still in the same clothes she had been in when he had abruptly left her residence; got thrown out more like.

“Would you like a drink, darling?” She was being awfully sweet considering she had wanted to rip his balls off a few hours ago. The lines in her face gave nothing away as to what she was really thinking but if this was a trap then he had better spring it.

“Yes please, darling,” he replied sarcastically. Something was very wrong but he played along until he could get more information.

“If you take a seat on the sofa I can bring it over to you, if you like?” She used the same sickly sweet tone that told James he was in trouble. He eyed her suspiciously and then turned round to sit on his sofa and put his feet up on his coffee table. He heard a clinking of glass and the streaming of a pouring liquid before she shuffled over to him and handed him his drink. He raised it to his nose mockingly, as if checking for poison. Maybe she had because she didn’t have a drink. She stood in front of him with a polite smile on her face and her hands neatly clasped in front of her, waiting.

James took a cursory glance over the rest of the room but saw nothing out of place other than M’s handbag at the end of the coffee table. He took a sip, all the time keeping in constant eye contact with M as he did. He swallowed and she smiled. It tasted fine.

He moved to put the drink down on the table but M moved in front of him and knelt between his legs which forced him to hold it. He swallowed the rest in one gulp and threw the glass onto the cushions beside him. 

“I can’t help but wonder what you’re doing here -”

She ignored him and began tugging on his trousers. He lay there quite naked but she only had eyes for one thing. She fondled his balls and edged closer on her knees so that she was able to place his flaccid cock inside her mouth. The heat from her mouth sent all the blood in his body rushing to this one place. What had he done to deserve this? Was this an apology for her angry outburst earlier? He could think of other ways to say sorry but he wasn’t upset with her methods.

M sucked and played with his cock, humming appreciatively all the while which made James want her all the more. It sounded like she was enjoying it as much as he was and he was barely erect. It didn’t take long. Soon his hips were involuntarily leaving his seat, trying to get better leverage into her mouth and his hands were clasped in tight fists on either side of him. He longed to grab the back of her head and thrust deep into her until she was gagging on his cock and he could come down her pretty pink throat without having to ask first. How could she give him orders with this ‘monster cock’ in her mouth, as she’d called it?

He almost dared to try it when M used the finger of one hand to stroke underneath his balls towards his backside. James squirmed so much with pleasure that he didn’t have time to wonder how she knew he liked it this way. 

“Fuck, M,” he whispered. Her mouth was still relentlessly moving up and down his length, sucking harder and harder, and he felt himself becoming more undone with every stroke. With a fingertip pressed against his entrance she slowed down sucking on his cock. It sent waves of frustration to his head and he hit the cushions with his fists. “Please, please, please.”

M stopped fondling his balls but started to massage his entrance. She was moving her mouth torturously slow now, flicking the head with her tongue once she reached the top to lick off the precum. Each time he groaned, unable to keep quiet. He could feel his heartbeat pounding, waiting for that glorious release. He lifted his head up to stare at her exasperatedly and wonder why she was doing this achingly slow act for him. That’s when he noticed she had been fingering herself and had two fingers in her pussy whilst she pleasured him. Was she preparing herself for him? She removed her other hand from him and stopped sucking him. He threw his head back in avid frustration.

“If you touch yourself, you’re fired,” she said. James noted there was no hint of arousal in her voice, no quiver that told him how she felt. She was pure ice and he knew she meant what she’d said. She stood up and moved herself to the chair opposite him where she could spread her legs and be seen by him. His cock bobbed hopefully as M put two fingers back inside herself and she made such noises that he expected the neighbours would call the police any minute. 

“You look so fucking gorgeous like that,” he moaned. “I need to fuck you so badly right now.” 

She ignored him and continued to rapidly frig herself. He hated watching when it could be him that made her sound like that. She knew that too. She rubbed her clitoris with her free hand and worked her way towards a solitary orgasm.

“Please let me make you come. Let me do this for you,” James pleaded. He felt like his balls were about to burst. 

But it was too late. M came whilst she stared directly into his piercing blue eyes. He hopelessly tried not to show her how desperate he was for her but his bobbing cock gave no illusions as to what was on his mind.

“Now, Mr Bond,” she said only slightly out of breath, “if you wish to finish this little show then you will come to my apartment at 7:30am. Don’t be late.” She picked up her handbag and moved towards the door. “Oh and 007, if you masturbate, I’ll know. There’s a good boy.” With that she left.

Her plan was starting to become very clear to him now that the muse for his arousal was gone. She was using sex as a weapon but he had to admire the expert way in which she did so. He stayed laid down in the living room until he had calmed down a bit before returning to his bedroom and setting his alarm for 06:45. He tried to stop playing the videotape of the last hour in his mind but it wasn’t easy to forget.

Since he was too restless to sleep, he decided to clean his gun to take his mind off things. He put his hand inside a hidden pocket of his mattress but found it empty. He patted the area several times and looked under the bed but saw nothing. He opened all of his drawers and moved all of the bed linen but it was no use. It was gone.

*

He knocked on the door at 07:25 wearing only jeans and a t-shirt. They are quick to remove, he reasoned. He waited patiently and still like a lion waiting to pounce. When M came to the door she was wearing one of what he called her ‘power suits’: A skirt that fell just below the knee and a jacket and shirt that exposed only the slightest area of her breast finished with a pair of low heels. She was a woman in a man’s world. 

James made his way inside and turned back to look at her. Without closing the door, she picked up her coat and work bag when James saw the familiar arrival of a jet black jaguar outside. 

“Do try to behave.” She winked at him and closed the door.

James heard three separate locks being closed as well as an ominous beep. He didn’t need his years of training to tell him that he was locked in and that she had probably thought of every way he might get out. He went to the front window and found a note: _This (like the others) is alarmed so that if you even so much as tamper with it a team of agents will arrive to take you to a four hour psyche evaluation. Your choice._

He groaned. This was not what he was expecting. He sighed and then made his way to the fridge.


End file.
